


catharsis | kusanagi izumo

by nihilisten



Series: my reader inserts [32]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25400566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilisten/pseuds/nihilisten
Summary: Put to rest all that's not life, drink for beauty and fill my blank page.[kusanagi izumo/reader]
Relationships: Kusanagi Izumo/Reader
Series: my reader inserts [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1048064
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	catharsis | kusanagi izumo

Drinking away the problems was hardly your modus operandi.

Sure, you loved a drink every once in a while, but the reason you frequented the bar HOMRA in Shizume city was usually the handsome bartender rather than the alcohol. That being said, today was not that day. Today you were going to get wasted and hopefully wake up with no memory of the last few days.

“Welcome—ah, Y/N-chan. What a pleasant surprise,” a silky voice speaking with the Kyoto dialect greeted you as soon as you stepped inside the premises.

Your eyes glanced over the bar to land on the man behind the counter. The owner – Kusanagi Izumo – smiled, a half-polished glass in his palm. Aside from him, the bar was empty. Thank goodness, you thought.

As a frequent visitor, you had a somewhat of an acquaintance with the man. He had a reputation as one of the leaders of a street gang Homra, and though there must have been some truth to the rumours (you’d seen his mates hanging out at the bar several times), he didn’t give off a violent aura. He was nothing short of a gentleman, and carried himself with true professionalism. Hospitable towards his guests, too; knew your favourite order and the times you usually came. Which is why today’s visit must have taken him aback.

Once inside, you walked up and sat on the stool by the counter.

“Hi there, Kusanagi-san. Not very busy today?”

“Haha, ‘course not. Not on a Monday evening. What can I get you? The usual?” He discarded the glass he had been polishing and leaned over, inquisitively.

“Let’s see…” You eyed the menu, but the names were all unfamiliar. Besides, you didn’t really care _what_ you’d drink. As long as it was strong. “I think I’ll just have vodka, please.”

“Vodka?” Despite his professionalism, Kusanagi couldn’t help getting surprised at your order. You felt your face heat up as he stared at you intently. “Your wish is my command.” To your relief, he soon straightened his back and reached for behind the counter to prepare your order. “I’d recommend juice as a chaser.”

“Yes, please. Black currant.” You nodded.

Kusanagi placed a shot glass and a juice glass in front of you, then opened a vodka bottle. Transparent liquid poured down with a quiet squelch, followed by a darker one. You thanked him with a nod, reached for your drink, and gulped down the alcohol all at once.

Tears prickled your eyes, that’s how strong it was. Good. Not even the juice could quench the fire that trickled down your oesophagus.

“One more, please.”

Not uttering a word, Kusanagi complied.

The process was repeated three more times until you felt like you couldn’t take any more. Unfortunately, you hadn’t reached your goal of getting wasted, but more of the alcohol and you’d throw up on Kusanagi’s precious counter.

He didn’t miss out on your state, though.

“So, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t dare lift your eyes. Looking down on the juice glass in your palms, your face was reflected in the dark liquid, but soon enough it became blurry as your teary eyes started giving up.

“Been a tiring week. A lot on my head. Nevermind.”

“Want to talk about it?” Soft voice, thick with accent, prompted you to continue. “You know, a bartender’s job is almost like a priest’s. When you want to make a confession, I’m here to listen.”

No. No, you didn’t want to talk about it. Yet now that everything had crashed onto you, and the alcohol had made you a complete wreck, it was too late anyway.

An ugly sob shook your shoulders, making you tilt the juice glass to dangerous levels.

“I lost someone dear to me.”

“A boyfriend?”

You laughed bitterly. “No way. It was… a friend.”

Silence fell.

Sniffling, you put the half-finished juice glass back on the counter. It was no use trying to drown in the alcohol. But just as you were about to stand up and leave, the silence was broken.

“It feels lonely, doesn’t it.” When Kusanagi spoke up, his voice wasn’t cheerful anymore. Hushed, almost as if he was trying to suppress something from getting out. “All of a sudden, the world feels unfamiliar because someone whose presence was so natural is not there anymore.”

“…Kusanagi-san?”

Taken aback, you looked up, only to meet his dejected gaze. You’d never seen him like this before. This wasn’t Kusanagi Izumo, the womanising bartender of the bar HOMRA… This was Kusanagi Izumo, perhaps the real one.

“Have you… lost a friend as well?”

The question came out before you could help it.

Had you been sober, you’d probably regret asking. No one wants to touch upon such subjects, and certainly not with strangers. But the alcohol had dulled your senses; you didn’t care that you were intruding, you didn’t care about being insensitive, nor did you care about his ‘duties’ as a bartender.

It was the worst feeling in the world – grief. So even though it was holding you in its clutches in this very moment, you sure as hell weren’t going to stand by, helplessly, when someone else shared your fate.

When your gaze, fixed on him, wouldn’t budge, Kusanagi sighed deeply. He reached for a cigarette box in his breast pocket, took one out and lighted it.

“I have. Not so long ago, I lost both of my best friends.”

“Oh my God. I-I’m so sorry,” was all you were able to utter. “Was there an accident?”

Eyes closed, Kusanagi drew on his cigarette.

“Something like that.”

This only lasted two seconds, though. In a heartbeat, Kusanagi blinked the gloominess away and smiled at you as if nothing had happened.

“Forgive me, mademoiselle. Turns out I’m not as good a listener as I thought.”

The obvious pain in his voice pierced through your heart, it resonated within. It felt like you were about to explode from the emotions that had been amplified to the extreme.

“Don’t. Please, don’t.” Shaking your head with might, you grabbed his free hand that was resting on the counter, and squeezed. “You probably never show this in front of your other comrades, right? Act all tough because they would crumble if they saw your weakness. But how can one be strong at a time like this…?” Despite yourself, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “It’s so fucking unfair that they’re gone so early, leaving us behind to our misery. We love them, but we’re so angry that they couldn’t have waited…”

And that was it. You’d broken down. Salty droplets sprinkled down your lashes, into the glass, shattering your reflection. Without even realising it, you brought his palm to your face and held it to your wet cheek, as if to transfer some warmth into it, as if to make sure he wouldn’t have to suffer on his own. To make sure _you_ wouldn’t have to suffer on your own.

Because, as selfish as it was, there was some faint consolation in being able to share those horrible experiences.

Kusanagi stared at you, wide eyed, cigarette-holding hand frozen in mid-air. His face tensed, and his eyelids were trembling ever so slightly.

There was a sound of crushing a cigarette in the ashtray. Then, Kusanagi’s hand slipped out of your grip.

Ashamed, you pressed your fists to your eyes.

But suddenly you heard approaching footsteps and a rustle right next to you. When you finally dared to unpeel your palms from your face, Kusanagi sat on the stool to your right.

“It will get better. It has to. Just not yet, am I right?”

Blinking away the tears at his muffled voice, you reached yet again, to cover his palm with your own.

“No. Not yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *loves Kusanagi, wants him to be happy*  
> Also me: *writes this instead*  
> I'm sorry ;w;


End file.
